


Three-hundred and sixty-five days

by nekosmuse_archive (nekosmuse)



Category: Without a Trace
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:54:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23776429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekosmuse/pseuds/nekosmuse_archive
Summary: Written pre 2005. Posting for archival purposes.Time changes everything.
Relationships: Martin Fitzgerald/Danny Taylor
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Three-hundred and sixty-five days

I.

After careful consideration, he decided on roses. Twelve of them. Long stem and red. Because women like roses and, apparently, red is a popular colour choice for Valentine's Day. Not that he'd know, because he's never actually celebrated the day with someone before. But the clerk at the shop around the corner from his apartment assured him that they were a fitting choice. Perfect for the occasion.

He brought them into work, tucked under his arm, along with his morning paper, a coffee in his free hand. They sat in the corner of his desk for most of the morning, waiting for the perfect moment, the perfect time.

At noon she told him she was sorry. That she hadn't meant to hurt him. He nodded and said he understood. He didn't.

Later, on his way home from a day that he swore might never end, he remembered the flowers, turned around and headed back to the office, brought them home.

They ended up sitting in a vase on his kitchen counter.

~

II.

Danny keeps touching him.

Little pats on the back that Martin imagines are meant to be comforting. He didn't even know Danny knew.

It's not that he minds, just that it's distracting and he doesn't really want to have to tell Danny he's fine. He's not, but Danny doesn't need to know that.

Danny doesn't need to know a lot of things, like the fact that Sam was the first honest relationship he's had since coming to New York. Or the fact that it's been two months since she broke things off and he hasn't gotten laid in three.

Danny just keeps on touching.

~

III.

Spring in New York smells like raw sewage.

It gets everywhere, seeping into his clothes and settling into his hair. It clings to his skin and he can't breathe without tasting it. It makes him seriously consider moving. He doesn't think he's cut out to live in the city.

Except, he's lived in cities most of his life, so he knows he probably wouldn't manage any other way. Besides, this is where his job is, and all he has is his work. He wonders if that makes him sad, or just pathetic.

He knows that's not entirely true. He has friends. Well, a friend. A friend who's also a co-worker, but at least Danny calls. All the fucking time, actually, and if Martin didn't know any better, he'd swear Danny was stalking him.

Still, he likes his nightly conversations with Danny. Likes that he can come home from work, shower and cook dinner, eat and at exactly ten past ten the phone will ring.

It's always Danny, and they always talk for hours. Well past when he should be asleep, but Martin doesn't care, because they never talk about work and Martin likes that they actually have something in common besides the Bureau.

~

IV.

Danny bought him a tie.

It's pretty nice, as far as ties go, and Martin wears it proudly to work the next day. He knows it's stupid, but he can't remember the last time someone bought him a birthday present, and really, it is a nice tie.

Everyone seems to think so, anyway; Vivian telling him the cut is very professional and even Sam mentions that the blue brings out his eyes. Martin can't help but wonder if Danny knew that. If he thought about it when he picked it out. If he was conscious of Martin's eye colour when he placed it into the box, wrapping it in sleek black paper and securing it with a steel grey bow.

He's pretty sure it doesn't matter, but he finds himself fingering it anyway, relishing the feel of silk beneath his fingertips and grinning every time he recalls the shy smile playing across Danny's face when Danny gave it to him.

He thinks it might just be the nicest gift anyone's ever given him.

~

V.

Humidity hangs in the air, coating everything in sticky dampness and Martin wipes sweat from his brow, nods to Sam on his right and Jack on his left before kicking down the door.

They find Maureen tied to a radiator, body broken and battered, eyes vacant, locked frozen on the ceiling above her and Martin has to cover his nose with the sleeve of his jacket to block out the smell.

Sam breaks down. Jack hovers at her side. Martin leaves the room and tries not the hate the world anymore than he already does.

Later, at ten past ten, he finds himself sitting by the phone, waiting for Danny's call.

At twelve past ten there's a knock on his door.

Martin's pleasantly surprised.

~

VI.

Danny has this odd habit of screaming at the television every time the Mets do something stupid.

It happens quite frequently.

Martin thinks it's kind of cute, actually.

He doesn't say anything, because he's pretty sure he shouldn't be thinking things like Danny and cute in the same sentence. Except he is and he's starting to not really care anymore.

He can't quite remember when their nightly phone conversation became nightly hanging out. When it became just understood that Danny would show up for dinner, or after dinner, or before dinner and sometimes it's Martin who ends up on Danny's doorstep. It's nice, anyway, because it makes him feel like he's not quite as alone as he used to be and even though he hasn't gotten laid in eight months (and he's well aware of how sad it is that he's counting), overall, he's pretty happy.

~

VII.

He agonized over the decision for weeks.

Even then he wasn't really happy and it took him returning three different gifts until he finally decided on the one that he was (mostly) happy with.

He's not sure why it's so important. Because all Danny gave him was a tie. A nice tie, granted, that he still wears more often than not, but still, a tie. That was Martin's first choice, but then he remembered that he had terrible taste in ties and Danny didn't, so obviously picking out a tie for Danny just wasn't going to happen.

His second choice was a pair of boxers. Black silk because he liked them and he could see Danny wearing them. He made it as far as the front doors before turning around, returning them on the spot and wondering what the hell he'd been thinking.

In the end he settled on a CD. Classical, because sometimes when Danny comes over for dinner he noses through Martin's collection. He always picks something contemporary, like Bartok or Messiaen or Bernstein, and Martin's pretty sure Danny's collection is lacking.

Still, he's nervous when he hands it over, store wrapped because regardless of how many times he tried, Martin couldn't seem to get the corners right.

He tries not to wince when Danny just tears into the paper, tossing it to the floor like Martin didn't just spend four-fifty on the wrapping job.

It doesn't matter, though, because Danny smiles, his eyes lighting up and Martin's so relieved that he wants to tell Danny to tear what's left of the paper up into little shreds.

~

VIII.

He's been thinking about kissing Danny lately.

A lot, actually.

He doesn't really know why.

He remembers when, though. He remembers sitting in Danny's apartment, take-out containers strewn across the table between them. Danny had said something funny. Really funny and Martin had laughed for a really long time. When he finally got himself under control, Danny was watching him, eyes soft and affectionate and in that moment Martin wanted to kiss him.

It's only gotten worse since then.

Now it's pretty much every single moment of every single day. Danny will smile and Martin will want to kiss him. Danny will laugh and Martin will want to kiss him. Danny will cry and Martin will want to kiss him. Danny will just stand there doing absolutely nothing and Martin will want to kiss him.

He's starting to think he might have a problem.

~

IX.

Fall has always been his favourite time of the year.

Mostly because he likes the colours. But also because the temperature is just about perfect. It's not too hot, it's not too cold, it's not too damp and it's not too dry. It's... perfect. It's the kind of season he wants to spend outside, just walking or sitting in some street-side café sipping coffee.

He's not sure how he convinced Danny to walk home with him, but he's glad he did. It's nice to have the company, even though they're not really talking. Just walking, each step made in perfect unison and, as usual, Martin's thinking about kissing Danny. He's starting to get used to the sensation, though, so it doesn't really bother him anymore.

What does bother him is that he's starting to wonder how Danny would react. Starting to imagine Danny kissing him back or Danny pulling away or all the thousand possible outcomes that would change everything between them.

Starting to wonder if trying would be worth it.

~

X.

Danny insisted they dress up.

He didn't really want to, but there are kids in Danny's building and he knows eventually they'll show up at the door. Apparently Danny does this every year that he's not working. Martin's not really surprised.

Besides, Danny's enthusiasm is infectious, so it's not like Martin's protests lasted all that long. He still feels like an idiot, though. He just can't decide if it's because he actually owns a Charlie Chaplin costume or because he put it on.

Danny's only teased him about it three times since he arrived, though, so it's not all bad.

~

XI.

The first snowfall of the season is light and reminds him of Christmas snow. It's beautiful, reflecting in shades of pink under the streetlights and Martin's struck with the sudden urge to run outside and catch flakes on his tongue.

He almost suggests it, going so far as to turn away from the window, a grin spreading across his face as he pictures Danny's reaction to the suggestion. He gets as far as hey before he notices the way Danny's watching him. Staring like he honestly didn't expect Martin to turn around and when a blush spreads across his cheeks, Martin's breath catches in the back of his throat.

Danny mumbles something that might be an apology, standing and moving for the door faster than Martin can process what's happening. It's only sheer will that starts him moving, darting across the room to stop Danny just as Danny's hand finds the doorknob.

And then he's kissing Danny and it's nothing like he imagined it would be. It's a thousand times better and when Danny finally gets over his shock, kissing Martin back like he's been thinking about this for just as long, if not longer, Martin decides that he is most definitely an idiot for waiting so long.

~

XII.

Danny's been wearing them pretty much since he opened them.

Strutting around Martin's apartment with a swagger in his walk, his hips swaying like he knows exactly why Martin gave him the damn things and exactly what his little show is going to accomplish.

Martin was right; the black silk boxers do look good on him.

Still, he can't help but wonder exactly how long Danny's going to make him wait before he finally lets Martin open his last Christmas gift.

~

XIII.

There are roses sitting on his desk. Twelve of them. Long stem and red and Martin blushes before reaching for the card.

He doesn't look at Danny, even though he knows Danny's watching him. Hell, the entire office is watching him and Martin feels himself flush even deeper. Probably deep enough to match the colour of the flowers.

He's not entirely sure how to react, because he's never actually celebrated this day with anyone before and even though he has a box of chocolate body paint and a card in his backpack, he honestly didn't expect Danny to give him flowers. Not out in the open for everyone to see and Martin shakes his head, grinning before finally turning around.

This time he does make eye contact with Danny, arching an eyebrow and grinning like Danny's just handed him the world.

He's well aware of Sam and Vivian's stares, the fact that he's pretty much acknowledged who the flowers are from, but he doesn't care. Because Danny gave him roses and no one's ever given Martin flowers before.

He thinks maybe he should make Danny open his present in front of everyone too.


End file.
